Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 92: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

402 “ You can, and will,” returned Belle with decision. ‘“ And the time to stop it is now, before there’s murder done.” “They'll say Ah’m feert 0’ thot mon Ko- walski—”’ ‘“* Brains—that’s all you need! But you need a lot,’”’ declared Belle. ‘“ Dave, I guess I’d betted run this thing. Get this in your thick head now—there’ll be no more trouble if I can help it, and I guess I can!” ** Ah’ll na ha’ ye mixin’ into this!” Da- vies growled, raised up on his chair. He was ready to pound the table with his fist. ‘¢ Ah’ll mind ma business—Ah’l] flat Kowal- ski aht!” *¢ You look silly,” remarked Belle calmly. “* Now sit down.”” Davies sat down. Mas- ter of most men, he was like a lump of clay in this girl’s hands. ‘“ Now,’ said Belle, “I’m going to tell you what you're going to do.” ‘“‘ Ah’ll do as Ah domn please,” asserted Davies with a last flash of stubborn de- fiance. “Sure you will,” agreed Belle sweetly, “and you'll please to do what I tell you to.” “ Ah’ll fight!” Davies grunted. fight any mon!” “Now you're talking,” Belle laughed. Nevertheless, there was tenderness in her eyes. “ When you fight, though, I like to have you fight to win—and that don’t al- ways mean beating the other fellow up. I remember,” she said, ‘one time when I was a kid there was just some such row as this—it started over a horse-race; some old thing, miners and smeltermen. Before they were through they tried to burn the town. ‘ “They had to send in the rangers—and they shut things down; everything closed tight for a month or more.” Her voice be- came very gentle now. “I’ve told you that I don’t aim to stay here running the Horseshoe Club, not all my life. This is no place for a family, Dave. I’ve promised you that we are going to leave the mining- camps when we have money for a real home outside. I think you want me to keep my word to you. “Now, suppose you go ahead and stir ~ up all the trouble you can? . What hap- €¢ Ah’ll ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. pens? Maybe a dozen killings and the rangers in; lid on everything; mine shut down—men can’t fight and work at the same time. Things aren’t run as loose as they used to be—I don’t want to visit my friends behind the bars. Then everybody is drinking, and nobody pays; before the shut-down, the club slate full of accounts it may take a year to get collected. I tell you Ill not have it, Dave—you can bet on that!” : To Davies this was an entirely new as- pect of the problem. Being certain in his Cornish mind that an eye for an eye and tooth for tooth was the only fitting miner's law, Davies had’ been very eager to. gather his men about him like some old Celtic chief, and go forth to battle until he had scattered his enemies to the winds. His enemies, it may be said, were any smelter- men who dared oppose a miner. But he had not thought of the riot he projected as affecting either Belle’s personal interests or his own. Before the weapon of her gen- tleness his defenses capitulated instantly. ‘Wha’ ha’ we got to do?” he asked, de- ferring to the superior wisdom of Belle. ‘Just how much of a man are you, Dave?” : ““Ah’m a domn good mon,” returned Davies solemnly: Then, with an access of modesty he added: “For the things Ah knaw.” ‘ Could you lick Kowalski, even with one arm in a sling?” “Ah’d fight for the chance!” adding again, with Cornish canniness: “ An’ Willy ged th’ mon a kick last night—he’ll ha’ an arm hisse’n thot’s na so strong.” “Then what does a man hate worst in all the world?” Dave pondered over this. ‘ T’ lose his money,” was a natural conclusion. Belle laughed at this. “ An’ t’ lose his lass.” Belle waited. ‘“ An’ t’ want t’ fight an’ na ha’ the chanst.” “There’s worse than that—than any of those things. To be called a liar or a coward and to be laughed at,” said Belle wisely. “°Tis the same thing,’’ Davies answered. ““Ee’n a coo’rd wants +’ fight, an’ would fight, gin he had the nerve.” COmiCbooks.Gom